Once The Dust Clears, Who Stands Tall?
by Yami Akurei
Summary: A 'what might've happened' between Borderlands Rated T


First off, I'd like to thank you all for reading this. If you've seen it on dA, that's from my account: Engel-Der-Dunkelheit. I was planning on making this into a few chapter long story of what might've happened between Borderlands and Borderlands 2 with a friend of mine. I'll update whenever he posts his chapter, and probably give a link to it, or if its okay with him, copy into onto here. Credit will be given. Til then, I hope you enjoy.

Warning; Swearing is included, as is alcohol.

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She sighed as she looked up from her spot at the bar, Maliwan Black Label bottles scattered about her space. This frickin' sucked. On and off again; thinking it'll work one moment, the next, drinking away the pain. She looked around, her usual drinking partner was absent. Where was he, he was almost always here? Must've been getting lucky with a new girlfriend, maybe even with the Underdome. She muttered out a curse and signaled to the bartender for another bottle. Once it was brought in front of her, she took a swig and swallowed hard. It always burnt going down, but what did you expect from Maliwan? Unfortunately the alcohol wasn't hitting hard enough, fast enough; she wanted the numbness that was promised, to stop the feeling that her heart was cracking.

Stupid asshole. Thought he always had to be such a hero. Rescuing orphans, saving wounded puppies, getting a stray Psycho out of someone's flowerbed, trying to take down entire weapon corporations. All she had wanted to do was relax. Suggested getting off this stupid planet for a few days, a week max. Try developing their relationship instead of just fighting off bandits. But nooooo. He had to flip shit. If they left, who would prevent Jakobs, hell, even Dahl from starting shit on Pandora. They've noticed that Hyperion, and that creepy Blake, had been too quiet lately. Who knew what -they- were planning. Regardless! It wasn't like Mordecai, or even Brick couldn't do anything without Roland around! Okay, maybe not Brick, but Mordecai was more than capable of handling shit if anything went wrong, and hell, they could take a ship back, and return in no time flat as back-up. But no, Roland wouldn't dare listen to reason. And she was just being illogical, too damn worried about her emotions or some shit, to think about trying to help keep Pandora safe.

She sighed again; thoughts traveling back to Mordecai, her partner in crime at the bars. Last time they got together, he introduced her to Rakk Ale and they decided to infiltrate a bandit camp. They didn't make it too far into the camp, drunk off their asses and laughing up a storm. When the bandits did realize they were there, Mordecai was sniping headshots, Bloodwing was terrorizing Psycho Midgets, and she was lighting Bruisers on fire. They made it to three more camps before daybreak. Definitely worth the argument with Roland, and the jack-hammering against her skull of a hangover. He said she could've went about destroying the camps without being drunk, in a smarter manner, she told him that they were gone regardless, so what did it matter? He never understood why she did what she did, never tried to accept how she did things. Mordecai did, Mordecai accepted her.

She took another swig, not realizing until now that she had finished her bottle as she was reminiscing. Screw it. This was like water with a sting. She needed something harder, something with more bite. Something that would take her mind off of assholes that were too busy pleasing their self-righteous mission, than trying to please one female in particular. ...damn she needed to get laid. She waved down the bartender, gave him the money for the Maliwan so he knew she wasn't just going to rob him of alcohol, and demanded some Rakk Ale. She stared down the bartender, could sense the unease about giving her more alcohol when she'd finished off six bottles within an hour and a half, yet he took her money and gave her the alcohol. No questions asked, at least not verbally.

It was always the first swig that hit her the hardest. The burning when she swallowed that traveled through her veins; coating her entire body seemingly on fire. She probably shouldn't have mixed her alcohol, her tolerance beginning to wane faster. She heard boots hit the ground hard, and the shrill cry of a bird; one bird in particular. She didn't need to turn around to know he was joining her at the bar. Didn't need to look to know that beneath his goggles, he was glaring at the bartender to give him a Rakk Ale of his own. Once his bottle was placed beside hers, and he took a drink, she knew it was time to talk.

"You're hitting it pretty hard Lil." His gruff voice mumbled in between swallows.

She giggled, for some reason, she blamed the alcohol. "Yeah, pro'lly wouldn't hit this hard, 'f it wasn't for a cert'n stick up 'is ass sold'r. Thinks breaks 're for pansies and he's married to 'is job. Thinkin' I'll get 'em a toaster for the weddin'."

She thought she saw the hint of a smirk grace the Truxican's features. "Really? I was thinkin' they might want a shiny new pole instead of a stick."

She grinned in response. "You might be righ'. We should go fin' one."

He chuckled at her. "Maybe, but I just got here. I ain't leavin' til I have a few more 'o these."

She nodded. There was always a calmness when she was near him. Or maybe it was just the alcohol settling nicely within her. Didn't matter, she never had to act up-tight, or feel like if she made the wrong move he'd descend on her with an attitude. They accepted each other's boundaries, and moved without issue. There was never kill-stealing. He never felt the need to invade her section of the fights. He knew she was skilled with her SMGs, and only interfered if she needed it. There was no competition, no fighting for glory. It just was.

As she broke from her thoughts, she saw him finish his first bottle and order another, hers barely halfway finished. She took another swig and watched him drink through his like it was nothing. His tolerance was like a brick wall. No possible way she could ever out drink him, hell she was sure Bloodwing had a better tolerance than herself.

His voice broke her musings. "So, what we got planned for tonight?"

She took another drink, turning to look up at him. "Figure we can hit this bandit camp near here. Givin' people o' New Haven a har' time."

She thought she glimpsed a faint smirk grace his features and she smiled lightly in response. Booze, slaughter, and someone who seemed to give a shit about her. That was exactly what she needed to get over Sergeant Stick-Up-His-Ass. She couldn't have asked for a better partner. She was just glad that they were both there for each other when they needed it.

She frowned as she remembered; it hadn't been that long ago, had it? Mordecai had won the Underdome single-handedly, and Moxxi along with the prize money. She had been happy for the two of them, they both seemed happy enough with each other. ...until Moxxi decided to drop him for this alleged 'handsome jackass' who was on the 'up and up' in the Hyperion corporation. She had stopped over at Mordecai's house as soon as she heard. Bag full of bottles of Rakk Ale in one hand, extra ammunition in the other. They spent the night trading in depression for destroying bandit camps, skag dens, and spiderant hives. Securing what they shared, building their bond stronger.

Tonight would be the same, she knew he'd make sure of it. She finished her drink and contemplated ordering another; she knew she was nearing her limit before she completely lost herself, and decided against it. She wanted to be aware of this evening, wanted to make sure she didn't say anything that could mess up their bond.

She blinked and looked around the counter top, the Maliwan Black Label bottles had been removed and there were more empty Rakk Ale bottles than she could remember having been ordered. How long had she been lost in her thoughts? Too long apparently.

He gave a rough chuckle and she could tell he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You back now? Took ya long enough. You ready to go?"

She nodded and took out the money for her drinks, handing it to the bartender. "Yup. Le's go kill shi'."

They got up and began heading towards the door, her body slanting slightly every once in awhile as she walked. Their trek took no time, bar being already located in New Haven. Purchasing the necessary ammunition and last minute vending tidbits, they headed towards the edge of the town and wandered until Mordecai found his preferred sniping spot. Her eyes capturing his every movement as he got into position, crouching and eyeing bandits. Carefully picking out his prey and slowly drawing in a breath, calming his breathing. He brought the scope up and leaned into the shot, about to finger the trigger-

"Hey Mordecai?" She knew she was breaking his coordination, an unspoken rule between the two.

Bloodwing gave a disgruntled cry; Mordecai making no movement, his attention focused on his prey. "Hm?"

She swallowed hard, she knew it would break their normalcy. "I was wonderin', can I take the firs' shot?"

Mordecai gave a grunt of acknowledgement, keeping his sights on the Brute. She knew he didn't worry about her taking his prey, she knew he figured that she would run out there, aiming for whatever Psychos and Bandit Ravagers came chasing after her. Most of all, she knew that when she crouched next to him, pulling out a sniper of her own, that his attention wavered.

She leaned against her weapon, Psycho in her sights. About to take the shot, body slanting slightly. She tried making up for the shift in body weight but her finger already reacted. She watched as the bullet imbedded itself in a shack a little to the left of the Psycho, startling it.

"Why don't you come over here, I got a little present for you!" she heard the Psycho yell as he looked around, trying to find the source of the attack.

Mordecai watched her silently as she tried to line up a second shot. Aiming a little lower, she watched through the scope as the Psycho began calming down. She tensed as she felt Mordecai evaluating her movements, this was his area of expertise, why was she trying to take up sniping anyway? She should be down there nut shotting bandits and laughing as Mordecai followed up with a head shot as they bent over in pain. She took a gulp of air, and felt her finger twitch before she pulled the trigger again.

"Come closer, I can almost smell you!" the Psycho yelled louder, as he began running about the camp, drawing the other bandits' attention.

Too fuckin' low, the bullet was a few centimeters off from a hit to the groin. Hell, at least she hit him, but still she groaned. She was getting ready to swap back to her SMG, at least she could prove herself to him that way. ...was that what she was trying to do? She didn't get much time to process her thoughts before she felt sudden heat at her back and arms against hers.

"Just relax, I'm helpin' your stance. You can obviously use all the help you can get." She felt his breath against the back of her neck as he readjusted her hold on the gun.

"Right." Trying to relax, she took a deep breath and blew it out. She could totally do this...

Using what tips he gave, physical and verbal, she took aim at a new Psycho that moved to close to the cross hairs of the scope. She exhaled slowly, pulling the trigger and watched as the bullet buried itself in the Psycho's forehead; killing him instantly.

It took his fellow Bandit Outlaw a few moments to find the corpse of his ally, "Nobody shoots my buddies but me!"

Hearing their ally's cry, the remaining bandits raised their attention and began seeking out the two Vault Hunters. A wide grin graced her features as she swapped out her sniper for her fire-elemental SMG and ran headlong into the fray, shooting whatever bandit limb entered her sight. A high-pitched laughter entered her ears as she began shooting several bandits in the groin, several shots rang out following her rapidly fired ones. Watching as the corpses of the bandits she shot fell to the ground, she turned her head and glimpsed the hunter in his position begin sighting down a Brute. It had been too long since she felt this free.

She ran through the camp, gunning whatever began moving within her field of vision; either handicapping, or destroying her victim. No plan, just a 'balls to the wall' mentality. Soon, too soon for her taste, the camp was cleared and whatever reinforcements had been summoned, were laid to waste. A shrill cry rang out from behind her as she began turning towards the sound, noticing as Bloodwing struck her talons against one last Midget Psycho and killing it instantly. She watched as Blood flew back to her perch atop Mordecai's shoulder, only a few steps from her, grin still in place.

A smirk appeared on the Truxican's face, "Good girl, Blood. Apparently you missed one Lil, thought you weren't lettin' any of 'em survive."

A laugh escaped her lips, it felt like she hadn't laughed like this in months, "Didn' want either of you to miss any of the action and get rusty on me."

Mordecai began heading back towards his sniping perch, she watched him, an unspoken want to follow him pulling her with as she fell into step with the Hunter. Once he reached the top of his hill, he crouched down, lowering himself into a seated position and stretching out his legs. She sat next to him, basking in the body heat from him, she leaned her head towards him, lightly touching his arm with the crown of her head.

"Fuckin' ale..." she mumbled out as she began closing her eyes, body relaxing completely against Mordecai.

She felt him tense slightly at her actions. "Hey Lil, you sure you should be fallin' asleep out here?"

She smiled at his words, it felt like he was worrying about her. "Jus' a few minutes. Tha's all."


End file.
